


A Sign of Hope

by Aithilin



Series: Fresh Start [7]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bittersweet, Fluff, M/M, Memory Loss, Post-Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 08:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10805484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: It had been years since Noct had seen Carbuncle; not since the little figure his father had given him was lost during the adventure. He didn't expect to see the little Astral again in Galahd.





	A Sign of Hope

When the rain hit Galahd, it was often with very little ceremony and a huge impact. The coastlines had plenty of warning— they could see the storms building for days before the winds dragged the waves up on the beaches, before the homes and businesses rebuilding from the occupation shuttered themselves in and fell into the old traditions of visiting family inland when the hurricanes started. No one had told the Nifs that the southern coasts were the worst battered, and it was only by the grace of Crown City building materials that the cities with the best vantage points had survived.

But the forests and mountains further inland— the seas of trees and mazes of overgrown roads and paths— rarely had the luxury of a warning before the rain was threatening mudslides and floods from the less tamed rivers. And from Noct’s vantage point— at a haven set just off the easy trails halfway up a mountain, he could see the mud threatening his climb back down. Lower down the paths, the tree roots were deep, clinging anchors holding the ground in place; an impenetrable wall of sturdy, ancient green the Nifs had taken no interest in removing during the duration of their stay. But he had climbed higher after his bounty and the dry mountain roads and their short brush lining was far less secure when the torrent started. 

The caves, at least, were a dry enough place to stay, even if the havens were not. 

He sent a text off to Nyx to let him know the situation, and settled down to watch the storm. 

When his phone signalled a response, he smiled before he even looked at it. 

Nyx’s responses ranged from short and sweet “okay” when he was preparing the bar for the night. Or more detailed, sometimes whining, messages about Noct being gone too long. There was no in between with that man, and Noct had spent whole nights sending messages back and forth before. 

Only Nyx never used emoji. Maybe one or two if they slipped in. Noct had fired off several before to annoy him. But even then, there were very select sets on both of their phones. 

Not little jumping cartoon chocobo surrounded by hearts. 

Not sent by some unknown number. 

The little image didn’t register at first, it had been years since he saw it. He held his breath as he looked around for the source; “Carbuncle?”

A little horn and confetti appeared, followed by the text: _Come and visit, little king._

It was already like a dream— the stead beat of the rain, the darkness of the cave growing darker as the clouds moved in to cover the night. There would always be the sense of dread that slipped in before the dark settled, before the reminder that the daemons had been burned away from even the deepest ruins now, and Noct’s only defence against it right now was a flashlight function on his phone. At least until the little clip on light was secured on his belt. 

He hadn’t sheltered in these caves before, hadn’t wandered to this particular set of hills and mountains. But his little light was enough to catch the shine in the stone; the wet, dark that promised a maze of passages he used to jump at the chance to explore. The little light caught the red sparkle to the stone— the veins of red that only just scraped the surface around him. He had wound his way through enough mines to know that those veins would have been opened up and bled dry by the Nifs, if there wasn’t something stronger protecting them. 

“Where are you?”

_Deeper_. Followed by that familiar chocobo again, legs crossed in movement. 

The further he went, the more the beat of the rain faded, the more he realised that his signal was cutting out. 

He had always trusted Carbuncle in the past. 

The caves didn’t open up as he walked, not to the glorious caverns he expected, not to the depths he would have thought. There were a few smaller passages branching off from his, but no sudden drops or dips in the dark, just a steady stream of familiar, texted praise and encouragement like he was eight years old again. A steady guide buzzing from his phone as he wandered deeper into the mountains. 

He traced the veins on the walls as he moved, careful of his steps, listening for the creatures that would have once haunted the maze. It was almost like sleepwalking, he thought. The steady trudge forward, playing hide-and-seek with the little creature who used to visit his dreams. 

When the passages did open up, when the little stream of “ _Left_ ” and “ _Right_ ” finally ended, Noct nearly collapsed in relief. Nearly laughed at the little emoji peppering the string of messages with the images he remembered signalling Carbuncle’s happiness. Nearly cried when the little creature— so familiar and warm— launched itself at him. 

“Hey, buddy,” was all he could manage, the phone dropping from his hand to catch the creature for a hug. 

He had missed those big, kind eyes he remembered from his childhood. The little ruby set in the Astral’s head bumping against him as the creature showered him in affection. Wrapping Carbuncle in his arms— in the dark of the cave, in the depths of this dreamlike maze of stone and gems— Noct knelt in the dirt and hugged the creature close. “You remember me?”

He laughed at the indignant message on his phone; _Not all of us astrals are idiots, little king._

There was something more comforting than he thought in the little actions of familiarity. The kindness the astral had always shown him, the allegiance it had always given so freely. He didn’t realise how much he had missed the creature; “If I had known you were here, I would have come to visit sooner.”

Noct found that he had even missed the little noises he had thought were so cute when he was a child. 

Carbuncle settled in one arm, and phone in his hand, Noct felt the tension he hadn’t known he had been carrying with him seep away. The fluffy tail was draped - wrapped, really— around his arm, small nose pressing against his shoulder, neck, cheek, with every new message. With every new question about how he was, what he was doing, where he had been.

It felt good to be able to lay everything out to his friend. To know that when he was done, the little creature would remember it, would still know who he was, who he used to be. 

He didn’t know when he had made his way back to the mouth of the cave to watch the rain. He didn’t know when he settled back against the stone with Carbuncle next to him, small paws so full of power resting on his knee as they watched the storm pass and held their strange conversation through chirrups and texts and words. 

“Can you do anything?” Noct asked, once he had caught up to where he was now. Once he had managed to let Carbuncle know about the bar and the hunts, and the strange magic centred in the Citadel that seemed immune to the ‘help’ of the other Astrals of Lucis. “Anything at all to let them know who I am? That I’m okay?”

It was a long moment of nothing after that— not the familiar buzzing from his phone, or the small noises from his friend. There was just the torrent outside and the peace of the caves— the little splashes of rain the only reminder that he wasn’t dreaming, that the cold and wet was real, that his friend next to him was real. There was just the stead noise of the storm and the distant, soft rumble between the clouds. He could see the paths losing their shape below, until the protection of the forest that promised him a drier trip home if he could manage the slip down the muddy mountainside. 

It was a long moment of silence to let himself hope that the gods that had taken everything from him before, that he was slowly trying to bring back, could be undone of changed. 

Finally, his phone buzzed, and Carbuncle watched with those big, dark eyes as he read the little text: _If I could, would you want to be the king again? Would you let them know that you left your throne, willingly?_

“I don’t know,” and Noct didn’t know. He didn’t want to take up the crown again. He didn’t want to be the ruling King of Light now that he had tasted this little promise of peace so far away from the martyrdom he had been fated to. “I just want my friends back.”

He smiled as Carbuncle rested his head on his paws, eyes fixed out on the rain again: _I’ll see what I can do, little king. But at least one of them is going to punch you._

“I trust you to be there to laugh at me, buddy.”


End file.
